


Countdown

by nickofhearts



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Celestial Murder Spree, Dark!Noct, Ear Piercing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:24:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9297998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickofhearts/pseuds/nickofhearts
Summary: Noctis didn't kill his father, heknowshe didn't, but there's blood on his hands and his father with his dying breath, telling him—"Take the ring, Noctis."





	1. Prologue

Noctis didn't kill his father, he _knows_ he didn't, but there's blood on his hands and his father with his dying breath, telling him—

"Take the ring, Noctis."

-

He runs.

It seems like there are so many more people in the streets than there should be, but maybe it's just that Noctis is running right through them, too emotionally wrought to warp past, to focus on any one point when all he can see is the sword in his father's chest and his own treacherous hands on the hilt.

Noctis still feels like he's moving through a dream, caught in the moment when everything in the throne room had suddenly frozen, as if time itself had stopped.

It's not until he steps outside Insomnia's gates that it finally hits him that this is no dream: _the Wall is gone._

-

He doesn't stop running until he's far from the city, deep enough in the wilds that there are daemons howling and nipping at his heels.

Noctis screams, slashing at them with all the anger and despair that's raging a furious storm inside him, smiling at the feel of their bones crunching beneath his sword. This, at least, he's in control of. It's like a calm comes over him, warp-striking anything he's in range of, tearing into the daemons with long daggers until they've all. stopped. _moving_.

He's bleeding from a multitude of cuts and the right side of his ribs ache like they're bruised or even broken, and now that there's nothing left to kill, Noctis isn't quite sure what to do with himself.

He falls to his knees in the midst of the carnage, waiting for the tears to come, but there's nothing save an empty hollowness inside him that's worse than any physical pain.

Noctis looks up at a flash of motion, sword immediately at the ready, but it's no daemon.

"Carbuncle," Noctis whispers, reaching his hands out. "You believe me, right? That—that wasn't me, _it wasn't real._ "

Carbuncle chirps at him, ruby horn glowing, and Noctis feels warmth wash over him in a wave, soothing all his aches away.

He falls asleep clutching Carbuncle to him like it's his only lifeline.


	2. Regalia

Noctis wakes up to bright sunlight in his face and the realization that falling asleep in the midst of the aftermath of a battle may not have been the best move. He's covered in drying blood and viscera, not to mention the traces of daemon remains still lingering in the area. The smell itself would probably be making him want to throw up if he'd eaten anything in the last 15 hours.

" _Ugh_ ," Noctis mutters to himself.

Getting sluggishly to his feet, he tries to wipe the worst of it off. 

What he really needs is a bath, but that's not a likely option at present. He heads instead towards the sound of running water, coming upon a swift running stream. The water's cold but clean, and Noctis shrugs, jumping in. 

He washes himself off as thoroughly as he can, trusting that he'll dry off fairly quickly in heat of the sun. 

Eyeing the pinkish water flowing away from him, Noctis tries to remember if any of Ignis' lessons had covered whether drinking free running water in the wild was possibly harmful to one's health. It's easier to think of that than it is to think of why exactly he's in the middle of nowhere considering dunking his head in a stream. 

He can't change what happened yesterday in the throne room, but he _can_ avoid poisoning himself in the present.

Deciding that he's not actually thirsty enough to tempt fate yet, Noctis heads out in a random direction after he's cleaned himself up, but he's gone no more than fifty paces when he hears a soft _kweh!_ of distress. A chocobo? He turns in the direction of the sound, making his way carefully through the underbrush so as not to spook it.

It's revealed to be a lone female chocobo in a small clearing, and Noctis wonders if she'd gotten separated from her herd somehow, or lost her rider to daemons?

"Hi there beautiful," Noctis says, holding his hands out and moving slowly to show her that he's no threat. He edges cautiously closer, keeping his voice low and soothing. "I just want to help."

"Kweh!" she warbles, flapping her wings at him in agitation.

Noctis backs up again before she can injure herself further trying to get away from him. At this distance, he can tell that her legs are all scratched up, possibly from dashing through thorny bushes to get away from daemons.

"Come on, lovely," Noctis coaxes, taking a small step forward. "Just let me have a look."

After a few minutes of gentle persuasion, the chocobo finally lets him close enough to see what's wrong—there's a long gash on the underside of her wing that looks at least a day or two old, and other smaller scratches on her sides. She's also breathing heavily, most likely exhausted by running away from whatever attacked her. Honestly, Noctis is amazed that she's survived this long on her own with all the daemons about.

"I'm going to help you," Noctis tells her firmly, petting her on the neck as she rubs her head against him in turn.

He rummages through his pockets for all his loose change, but it's not much. Hopefully, it's enough for one potion at least.

"You have any idea where the nearest town is?" Noctis asks the chocobo. 

"Kweh!" she answers, nodding her head in the direction of the trees to the left of them.

Dubious, but willing to entertain any directions at this point, Noctis sets out, only to get headbutted in the back. "Hey!" he says, giving her a glare. It softens when he realises she's worried about him leaving her. "Wait here," he tells her, giving her one last pat on the neck. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

This time, she doesn't try to follow.

-

It's not much of a town, but Noctis does come upon an outpost with a general store. He picks up a few cold sandwiches along with the potion, setting them down at the register as he wonders how he's going to come up with any more gil for the next time he needs potions, or wants to eat. 

The cashier doesn't even give him a glance as he rings up the purchase, attention focused on the small television mounted on the back wall at the same time.

That's when Noctis hears it, the news broadcaster reading off a script: "17-year-old Crown Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum fatally attacked his father, King Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII during an audience early yesterday afternoon—" cutting to an actual clip of the event, Noctis frozen as he sees himself call a sword out of the air and shove it through his father's chest. _That's not what happened_ , he wants to scream, but the video feed says otherwise.

"Your purchases, sir," he's interrupted out of his reverie by cashier, and Noctis almost wants to laugh at the expression on the guy's face as he realizes who it is he's handing the bag to if the whole thing weren't so fucked to begin with.

" _You!_ " the guy yells, pointing a finger at Noctis and backing away at the same time as if Noctis is going to call out one of his swords and stab him right this moment.

Noctis grabs the bag and leaves.

-

" _Fuck!_ " Noctis yells, slamming his hand against a tree trunk once he's gotten far enough away from the outpost that there's not likely to have been anyone that's followed him. The thing erupts into flames, setting all the nearby trees on fire.

It's a good thing there's only a small group of them, as he's too upset to control his magic right now.

He doesn't realize he's crying until a soft "kweh?" comes from behind him, and Noctis turns to see the blurry form of a chocobo trying to nuzzle at his shoulder. 

"Sorry girl," Noctis mumbles. "Did I scare you?" He takes deep breaths, running his hands rhythmically through chocobo feathers as he strokes her on the neck, calming them both down bit by bit. Once he's composed enough not to make a mess of it, Noctis casts a small targeted blizzard spell, putting out the remaining flames. "Here, I got this for you," he says, pulling out the potion.

The chocobo stands remarkably still for it as Noctis lifts up her wing and applies the potion to the affected areas, pouring the rest of it on his hand and dabbing it over her legs to clear up the remaining scratches.

"There, all better," patting her on the back when he's done. "You can go home to your friends now. I'm sure they all miss you."

"Kweh!" she answers, butting her head against his chest and dancing back again. 

Noctis gives a small laugh, amused at her antics despite himself. "You're welcome. You can thank me by not getting hurt again."

He turns, wondering where he should go to spend the night. Probably sticking around where he's just set the local wildlife on fire is a bad idea, but he doesn't relish wandering around the dark to run into more daemons either. He's still considering it when he notices the chocobo's still watching him, not having run off like he'd expected. "Shoo, shoo," Noctis says, waving his hands at her, surprised at the offended look she gives him back.

"You want to stay with me?" Noctis asks. "I don't think that's a good idea." He sighs. "Those daemons you escaped from are nothing compared to the problems I'll be running into."

"Kweh!" she argues, and true, she's got to be pretty stubborn to have survived this long injured and on her own with all the predators about. Stubborn enough to follow Noctis around even if he _doesn't_ agree to it, he thinks dryly.

"Fine, you win." Noctis huffs. "You'll need a name, though." He thinks for a moment, then asks with a sad smile. "How about 'Lia?" 

"Kweh!" 

Taking that as approval, Noctis taps her on the beak, laughing when she makes an irritated noise at him. "Alright then, Lia. Where do _you_ think we should spend the night?"

Shaking his head at the fact that his life has now become following a chocobo around the wilderness before night falls, Noctis finds himself smiling regardless. For the first time since running headlong out of the palace, he feels like there's something to look forward to.


	3. The Immortal

Noctis rolls over, getting a mouthful of chocobo feathers for his trouble. "Lia!" he groans, and receives a sleepy warble in response. 

Sighing, Noctis sits up and peers blearily around at their surroundings. They'd taken shelter in a shady grove for the night, but they can't just continue to wander around aimlessly. He needs direction, and he has an unsettling idea of where he can get it. 

Waking up far more smoothly than Noctis had, Lia butts her head gently against his shoulder in greeting, watching as he pulls his father's ring out of his pocket.

"I guess there's no help for it," he says to her. If his father had wanted Noctis to have the ring so badly that he'd spent his last breaths telling him so, then there must be a reason for it.

He slides it onto his finger in one smooth motion. The ring fits as if it was made for him, even though Noctis knows it'd fit his father perfectly too, and his father's hands had been much bigger than his.

It just feels—heavy. 

Not in a metaphorical sense like his father had always been lecturing him about, responsibility and the duties of a king to his people, but like it's actually harder to breathe with it on. Noctis closes his eyes, asking _what should I do now_ , and there's nothing for a few long moments that have him almost tearing it off and throwing it into the trees in frustration, but suddenly a series of images flash before his eyes. 

_A tomb?_ Noctis thinks. That's morbid. He doesn't recognize the area, but the ring's now warm on his finger, and he has a vague sense of what direction it wants him to head in.

"Looks like we're going grave-robbing," Noctis tells Lia, patting her on the back as he gets to his feet. 

"Kweh!" she answers happily, which is a lot more enthusiasm than Noctis has for this whole venture.

-

Riding a chocobo without a saddle is definitely not Noctis' favorite mode of transportation. He's sore all over, and the one time he'd drifted off into an uneasy sleep, he'd fallen off her entirely, much to Lia's amusement. It's still better than having to walk the entire way. Probably.

The ring on his hand suddenly pulses, and Noctis looks up, but can't see anything resembling the visions of the tomb the ring had given him.

In any case, they're probably close.

He slides off Lia's back with a groan, stretching his limbs and trying to rub the pins and needles out of his legs. He's definitely going to be feeling this tomorrow. The path up ahead of them's hilly and narrow, almost like a corridor.

Noctis considers, then, "race you to the top!" he shouts, sprinting ahead.

Lia quickly catches up, outpacing him with a smug "kweh!" as her tail feathers wave in his face.

Noctis grins.

Calling out his daggers, he warps to a high point on the hillside, then keeps warping ahead, making it to the tomb's doorway several paces before her.

Lia is clearly disgruntled.

"Ow, Lia! Stop that." Noctis holds her back, trying to give her a stern glare, but falls into giggles instead as she keeps butting her head against him just hard enough to knock him back a step or two. "It's not cheating!"

"Kweh!" Lia argues, though she quiets down as Noctis reaches out to pet her on the neck, leaning into him with a soft warble.

-

The inside of the tomb is pretty much as expected, dusty and old and creepy. Noctis takes a cursory look around before heading to the center where his ancestor is entombed, Lia huddling close to him the entire time as if wary of letting him out of her sight.

"Here goes nothing," Noctis says, holding the ring over it.

Lia startles back as the sword turns into light, floating up then _into_ Noctis, the feel of it bizarre and uncomfortable. She nudges at him carefully after it's faded away, checking that he's alright, not actually stabbed by a ghost sword.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," Noctis tells her, laughing. "It's just more Lucian magic."

Lia's annoyed "kweh!" answers exactly what she thinks of that.

-

They're almost back at the bottom of the hill when something slams into Noctis, knocking him into Lia and making her squawk indignantly. 

"What the fuck!" Noctis swears, then blinks as the something materializes into a recognizable form. "Cor?"

Noctis' breath catches painfully in his throat as he realizes just how _good_ it is to see a familiar face after having only Lia for company for a few days. Not that Lia isn't good company, but it's not the same as—

Cor's sword misses him by inches, a warning, because Cor never misses. "How _could_ you, Noctis? What made you do it?"

"I—" Noctis swallows. How can he explain it when even he doesn't understand what happened in the throne room? The look on Cor's face is awful, and Noctis doesn't know what to say to make it go away. "I don't want to fight you," he whispers instead. 

Cor readies his sword, adopting a battle stance. "I won't hold back," he states, and Noctis knows with a terrible clarity that the next blow won't miss.

Lia pushes at him, confused when Noctis just stands there, as if trying to will this whole situation not to be happening. 

"No," Noctis tells her, taking her face between his hands and holding it so she's looking him in the eyes. "Wait over there," he says, pointing at a spot in the distance. He shakes his head when she tries to nip him on the shoulder in disagreement. "I _mean_ it, Lia." 

Lia grumbles unhappily, but she does as she's told for once, trotting far enough out of range that whatever happens, at least Noctis can be sure she won't get caught in the middle of it.

The ring burns on his hand when Noctis summons the sword he's just claimed from the tomb, and Noctis yells as he meets Cor's blade blow for blow. Cor might be one of the best swordsmen in Lucis, but Noctis has the power of the Lucian kings of old behind him, and all the knowledge that comes with. 

What happened that day _wasn't his fault_ , and Noctis isn't just going to roll over and die for it.

-

It's still one thing to be ready to take on anything and everything fighting for what he knows is right, and completely another to actually face Cor the Immortal in battle. Twenty minutes in, Noctis feels himself faltering, the ring drawing more and more out of him that he doesn't have to give.

"Yield," Cor tells him, when Noctis goes down hard for a third time. "I'll take you back to the Crown City for a fair trial."

Noctis snorts, getting painfully to his feet. "To be executed, you mean. _I'd rather die here._ " 

He runs at Cor one last time, pouring all the power he can muster into it, warping out of the way of Cor's strike and bringing his sword up to finish the job, but Cor is one step ahead, blocking and turning the blow so Noctis goes stumbling past, and _fuck_ Noctis thinks, the moment before Cor stabs him in the back.

When he looks back up though, surprisingly not bleeding from a mortal wound, it's Cor that's falling to the ground, a dagger stuck through his ribs.

"Not so immortal in the end," the stranger who's just saved Noctis' life says with an odd sort of smile on his face.


	4. Intercession

" _Who the fuck are you?_ " Noctis demands, sword ready and aimed at the stranger's throat. Noctis hadn't even seen him move in behind Cor, and he'd somehow gotten past Cor's guard as well. Even if Cor had been distracted fighting Noct, whoever this guy is, he's dangerous.

The man only smiles at Noctis in a way that's beginning to infuriate him. "A friend," he says.

Noctis bares his teeth, almost growling now. "I don't _have any friends._ " 

He lunges forward with his sword out, blocked by the stranger's shield, though it cracks under Noctis' onslaught. Before it shatters completely, the man says through gritted teeth—"I have the name of the one who betrayed you."

Noctis lets up slightly with his sword, but doesn't drop it. " _Talk._ "

"General Glauca," the stranger says, then adds. "Perhaps you know him as Captain Drautos?"

"What?" Noctis' eyes are wide. That's— _no_. Drautos has been the Captain of the Kingsglaive for years, and Noctis has always trusted him to protect his father. That he'd used the very magic that Noctis' father had shared with him to somehow make Noctis turn his blade on him, and has been in fact the very enemy they've been fighting against this entire time, _no_.

Seeing that Noctis is too struck by the revelation to make any kind of response, the man continues. "I expect you're unaware, but the former Captain has declared martial law in Insomnia and named himself Regent since your...misfortune in the throne room."

Noctis snarls, sword back up. "And how do _you_ know all this, _friend_."

The stranger sweeps a grandiose bow that wouldn't be out of place at the most formal of political occasions, but seems almost ridiculous here in a grassy field, the two of them standing at odds with Noctis' sword still held waiting. "Ardyn Izunia, Imperial Chancellor, _at_ your service."

Noctis has the distinct urge to shout " _What!_ " again, but he bites his tongue on the impulse. "And you happened to step in just now because you're known for being a kind and generous soul, _Chancellor_?"

Ardyn laughs. "I doubt you would accept that explanation were it the actual case, _Highness_. Glauca has been plotting for an age, and all signs indicated that he was to act in the coming days. I've been in your lovely capital city for the past week monitoring his movements." Ardyn smiles at him, sly. "Next you ascend the throne, Prince Noctis, I would advise you reassess the security measures of your fair city." He waves a hand. "Following the events that led to your abrupt departure, I risked a gamble. The Marshall seemed uncommonly motivated to leave the city, disregarding the new Regent's declarations, and it seemed prudent to pursue him." Ardyn's expression returns to that same smile that has Noctis' hackles rising. "I gather you're not disappointed by the outcome?" 

Noctis scoffs. "That's what I don't get. Why help me? Isn't Glauca on _your_ side, Nif?"

Ardyn sighs dramatically, as if Noctis' shortsightedness is personally offensive to him. "It would seem our _dear_ General has been playing both our nations for fools. Now that he has seized control of Lucis, he's due to declare war against Niflheim."

Noctis stares, uncomprehending. This time, there's no stopping the " _What?_ " that spills forth.

"It is a fact that the Kingsglaive are largely made of refugees from Lucis' territories, is it not? It would seem they have long resented the Wall that protects only your capital and leaves their own homelands at _our_ mercy, Highness." Ardyn gives him a look. "Something else to consider for your own future rule, perchance."

Noctis blinks. "But you'll crush them. The reason we _haven't_ gone to war is that your military outnumber us a hundred to one."

"A wiser king than the one who sits the throne," Ardyn remarks. "I do believe we'll work well together, Highness."

Noctis narrows his eyes. "So what, you want to put me back on the throne as your puppet king?"

Ardyn laughs again, though this amusement is at least better than the previous ingratiating smile. "From the showing you just gave, I very much doubt you'd do well playing anyone's _puppet_ , Prince Noctis." He shrugs. "Helping you distracts the good General, giving us time to gather our forces against him. If you are exceedingly successful, perhaps we may even avoid bloodshed. Save that of Glauca, certainly." Holding out a hand, Ardyn waits for his response. "A truce, Your Highness?"

Noctis finally releases his sword. Grasping Ardyn's hand, he agrees. "For now, _Chancellor_."


	5. Playing With Fire

His ancestors were all fucking sadists, Noctis decides. The ring has led him to fighting his way through winding caves, down into dank and desolate mines, past bug-infested swamps, up creepy-assed towers, around lush forests, and over back-breaking mountain summits that turn out to be _live volcanoes_. Noctis wonders how many of his predecessors had just perished on the way to obtaining their ancestral weaponry instead of actually getting to them. Then again, they probably hadn't had to go it alone. 

He thinks briefly of Prompto, Ignis, Gladio, and wonders what the situation in Insomnia is like now. But even if Noctis had a way of contacting them, he doubts they'd believe him any more than Cor, or anyone else in Lucis. 

No, his only present option is to follow where the ring leads him, gathering his powers to confront Drautos with his treachery.

If Noctis didn't have Carbuncle on hand to restore him whenever things went badly, he'd never have made it as far as he has. He yawns, holding tight to Lia as she picks her way cautiously through the rocky terrain. There couldn't be _that_ many more of the things, could there?

-

Noctis sighs, taking a moment to gather himself after assimilating the sword from the latest tomb. It feels weird even now, the ring on his finger only growing heavier with each arm he adds to his arsenal. Lia's still waiting for him at the entrance to the waterfall, or Noctis would be sorely tempted to just bed down in the tomb for the night, as gruesome as it is.

His Armiger surrounds him on reflex when the door to the tomb opens unexpectedly.

"What do _you_ want," Noctis snarls. The Imperial Chancellor is _not_ what he wants to see right now.

"That hurts," Ardyn says, as facetious as always. "I come bearing a gift." He eyes the phantom shape of swords shimmering in the air. "It appears that you're well on your way to surpassing your father's legacy, Noctis. _Masterfully_ done."

Noctis glares, crossing his arms. "I don't need to hear that from _you_."

Ardyn only smiles. "Be that as it may, I recalled an artifact we unearthed some time ago. It may be of aid to you in particular." Ardyn reaches into a pocket and draws out something small but intricate-looking, dangling it from his fingers. 

Even in the dim lighting of the tomb, Noctis can see that the thing glows with an unnatural light. Peering closer, he realizes what it is. "You want to give me...an earring." 

"Not any earring," Ardyn replies. "It's said to be imbued with the powers of the Infernian, the most powerful of the Six." 

Noctis looks up, surprised. "And you're just _giving_ this to me."

Ardyn shrugs, affecting an air of unconcern. "Only the Chosen of the Crystal may receive the blessing of the gods."

"Fine," Noctis says, deciding. His ring had warmed to the presence of the earring, so it definitely has power. Even if all it does is give an added boost to his magic, that would help. He motions for Ardyn to put it on for him. "Hurry it up."

"As His Highness commands," Ardyn responds, stepping in close.

Noctis tenses as Ardyn brushes his hair out of the way, fingers warm on Noctis' ear as he tugs lightly on Noctis' earlobe. It's been weeks since Noctis has been this close to another person, even if it is the Imperial Chancellor. He takes a deep breath as Ardyn draws even closer, presumably to stab the earring through, but Ardyn only traces his fingers over the rim of Noctis' ear again, making him shiver.

Annoyed, Noctis snaps. "Sometime today, Chancellor?"

" _Patience_ , Prince Noctis," Ardyn murmurs, though he does then line up the earring hook, piercing it through Noctis' ear in one smooth motion. 

Noctis gasps. The metal itself feels hot, but more than that, it's like there's a burning in his blood, power that rushes through him in a wave. His skin is still tingling with it when Ardyn steps back, giving Noctis an appraising look.

It's just. 

It's been a _long_ time since Noctis has had this much actual human interaction, and Ardyn's despicable, but he's not unattractive, and Noctis just _wants_ all of a sudden, all the loneliness of the last few weeks catching up with him at once. He meets Ardyn's look with a heated one of his own, grabbing him by the scarf and leaning up to kiss him.

It's better than it should be, whether because of Noctis' enforced solitude or Ardyn's just that good of a kisser, Noctis can't be bothered to care.

He shoves Ardyn back until he's half-leaned against the sarcophagus, Noctis almost in his lap as he grinds their hips together, trying to get any friction that he can. He hasn't exactly had a lot of opportunities to jerk himself off when he's been fighting all category of daemons in his haste to collect his ancestral weapons, not to mention the difficulty of explaining to a chocobo that he needs some alone time, so it's not a complete surprise when he comes startingly quickly, moaning into Ardyn's mouth.

"A _young_ prince after all," Ardyn says, smirking at him as Noctis pulls back.

Noctis just rolls his eyes, leaning in to kiss Ardyn slower this time, the heat and closeness of it nice in a way that lets him gloss over who he's doing this with. He peels his pants off with one hand, the other braced on Ardyn's shoulder as he then gets a hand around his cock, stroking himself back to hardness through the mess of his own come. "See if you can keep up, _Chancellor_." 

Giving a low chuckle, Ardyn wraps his hand around Noctis', gripping just enough to be on the painful side of good, making Noctis' breath catch. "That will not be a problem, rest assured."

Noctis glares when Ardyn's hand relocates to his ass, squeezing once before he shifts to tracing between Noctis' legs, fingers still wet with Noctis' come. 

" _Fuck_ ," Noctis mutters, when Ardyn slides a finger into him, the texture of his half-glove a strange sensation against sensitive skin, though he spreads his legs wider to give Ardyn more room. 

Ardyn raises an eyebrow at him. " _Have_ you done this before, Highness?"

"Not—with anyone else," Noctis answers. He slants a glance up at Ardyn, "and how long's it been for you, Chancellor?" moaning when Ardyn eases in another finger for that remark.

It aches in that good kind of way, like waking up the next day after fighting too hard, all his muscles sore to the touch. Noctis shifts his hips back into it as he tilts his head up to kiss Ardyn again, Ardyn working him open with a gentleness Noctis hadn't expected from him.

"That's enough," Noctis says when he's ready, leaning back and stretching a little, the position not a comfortable one to hold for so long. 

"As you command," Ardyn answers, though his tone is anything but obsequious. He undoes his pants just enough to get his cock out, thicker and longer than Noctis', but the true test is of whether Ardyn can put it to good use. 

Noctis shifts forward, bracing both hands on Ardyn's shoulders as he lets Ardyn guide himself in. It hurts, but Noctis is too far gone to care about that when the feeling of Ardyn pressing into him inch by inch is exactly what he needs right now, grounding him in the sheer sense of _connection_ , that he's not so alone as he's felt for the past fuck knows how long.

"Don't— _move_ ," Noctis bites out when it gets too much, digging his nails into Ardyn's coat. 

He takes steady breaths until he's relaxed enough that it's not overwhelming, and then he shifts up on his knees and back down, moaning at the stretch and burn of it, more when Ardyn puts his hands on Noctis' hips and helps him, the angle shifting just enough that Ardyn's cock hits that spot inside him that sets all his nerves alight whenever Noctis is slid all the way down. 

"Fuck," Noctis swears, wrapping his legs around Ardyn instead and letting Ardyn fuck into him, Noctis' legs turned to butter as pleasure gathers at the edge of his senses.

He wants to get a hand on himself so he can come, but he also wants to linger on the verge of it for just a while longer, the feeling of _almost_ having what he wants somehow better than actually having it, because he knows that won't last.

"Allow me," Ardyn whispers into his mouth, taking Noctis' cock in the circle of his fingers.

Noctis screams when he comes, the pleasure nearly too much, something that can't be contained by human means, and when he opens his eyes, there's a ring of fire all around them, lighting up the inside of the tomb brighter than daylight.

" _Quite_ a performance, Your Highness," Ardyn is laughing. "It would seem there are secrets the Lucian kings keep yet."

Ardyn must have come at some point as well, because Noctis can feel it inside him, wet and slightly uncomfortable, but he feels too good otherwise to complain about it. "Die in a fire," he growls.

-

Ardyn brushes dust off his jacket as Noctis shimmies back into his pants with a grimace, smiling at him in that way that always makes Noctis' skin crawl. "What _will_ your ancestors think, Prince Noctis."

Noctis snorts. "Like they haven't seen worse."

"Then I take my leave," Ardyn says, giving Noctis a half-bow before he heads back out of the tomb. 

Noctis watches him go, wondering exactly what the Imperial Chancellor's game is, and how much all this _help_ is going to cost him when the time comes. The throne isn't going to be worth much if he's already sold its weight in gold.


	6. The Trials of Gods

The next weapon's tomb lies at the edge of a cliff nearing the center of the Disc of Cauthess. Wary of the crumbling rock face, Noctis dismounts a fair distance away so he can go ahead on foot. No use risking Lia when he can warp back if anything goes wrong.

"Stay here," Noctis tells her, petting Lia gently before he heads towards the sarcophagus.

It's another sword, and Noctis sighs heavily as he feels it slot into place amongst the others. He's just about to make his way back to Lia when Titan roars, the whole section of ground he's on collapsing into the canyon.

" _What the fuck!_ " Noctis shouts, stabbing a sword into the cliff face before he can fall to an untimely death.

He warps swiftly out of the way when Titan takes a swipe at him, the grating cacophonous sound of his voice shaking Noctis to his bones and making his head hurt. Is Titan trying to _communicate_ with him? Noctis growls, trying to warp to a better location to see if he can make any more sense of it closer up, but lands instead on a section of the wall that crumbles away immediately, sending him falling.

 _Shit_ , Noctis has time to think before he feels his earring go hot, and there's suddenly a whole different rumble as the earth beneath him parts, something massive and ornately decorated breaking through.

Noctis lands awkwardly on the arm of a throne the size of the Citadel's audience chamber, Ifrit barely flicking him a glance before he's grabbing his gigantic fucking sword, dancing through the air to meet Titan's fist with the blade's edge. It's beautiful in a sheer destructive sense, Ifrit cleaving _pieces_ off Titan every time they exchange blows, flames wreathing his body and flaring out whenever the two clash against each other.

_Now, Chosen King. Cast ice._

Noctis starts, not expecting the address, but he concentrates his magic quickly enough for a triple cast Blizzaga, aiming to hit as much of Titan with it as he can.

This time when Ifrit moves in with his sword, _all_ of Titan shatters under the assult.

-

"Fuck," Noctis mutters, touching his fingers to the earring once he's back up on solid ground with Lia. It's warm against his skin, as if he can feel Ifrit's power contained within it, more now than there had been before. 

He points Lia in the direction the ring is guiding them, trying to remember what he's read of the Six in childhood story books. Ardyn had implied that only the Lucian kings could call the gods, but Noctis doesn't remember anything like that from his own history books. 

He's still thinking about it when they pass by the entrance of a dark cave, Ifrit's voice echoing like whispers in his ear.

 _The Stormbringer lies near_.

Noctis jerks to attention, nudging Lia to a stop so he can slide to the ground. "I guess that's my cue," he tells her. "Wait here for me?"

Lia warbles agreeably at him, wandering off in search of greens in the nearby forested area.

What feels like five hours and an innumerable amount of daemons later, Noctis is standing in front of a glowing runic tree. "This better be worth it," he grumbles, placing a hand on the trunk. He never wants to see an imp again in his life, or be asked creepy questions by snake women with nightmare faces. Noctis is almost entirely certain she ate her fucking baby herself.

There's an immediate tension in the air like crackling electricity, lightning arcing under his palms. 

When Noctis steps back, the form of an old man wielding a staff appears, but the ground is already cracking apart under his feet, Ifrit emerging out of the earth in a blazing wash of fire. It takes but a moment for his sword to effortlessly cleave through the staff and plunge deep into Ramuh's chest.

Noctis stumbles at the sudden rush of power that floods him, the earring almost burning as Ifrit twists the blade and Ramuh splinters apart with a blinding crack of light.

-

By the time Noctis makes it back out of the maze of winding passages, he's covered in grime, daemon parts, and who knows what else. Lia is most definitely not going to come anywhere him until they find some body of water for Noctis to wash himself off in, but it appears that that isn't his most concerning problem on emerging from the cave.

"You again?" Noctis asks dryly. "Don't you have better things to do than follow me around, Chancellor?"

Ardyn smiles, a strange kind of amusement in the expression. "Fortunately for you, not at present." He gestures at the airship looming behind him. "Your chariot awaits, Prince Noctis."

Noctis sighs, considering. It's not to either of their benefit for Ardyn to betray him now, and airships have showers and beds, don't they? He can't remember the last time he slept on something that wasn't hard ground, unforgiving even with Lia's comforting warmth as a pillow. 

"Fine," Noctis agrees. "But Lia's coming with." 

Ardyn only shrugs, gesturing for the two of them to precede him. "But of course, Your Highness."

-

It's so nice to be actually clean for once, not just the kind of clean where he drenches himself in a lake, that Noctis doesn't even care that Ardyn's made off with his clothes, leaving him only a towel to lounge around in. He sprawls sideways on one of the inexplicably lavish chairs, leaning his arms on the seatback as Ardyn hands him a map. 

"The Trident of the Oracle is one of your objectives, is it not?" Ardyn's expression flickers, something almost malicious in it as he adds. "Only the Princess of Tenebrae bars your way."

Noctis eyes the winding labyrinth of roads and waterways, getting a headache just looking at it. The ring will guide him to the royal armament, in any event. "I'll take care of it."

"I'm _certain_ you won't disappoint," Ardyn answers, though the look he's giving Noctis now has far less to do with collecting powerful relics to restore himself to the throne, and more to do with the towel that's slipped almost completely off Noctis' hips.

Noctis shifts his legs, letting it fall the rest of the way to the ground. He smirks up at Ardyn. "How long to Altissia was it, Chancellor?"

-

Noctis pulls the hood of the borrowed jacket lower over his face. The sheer number of people on the streets of Altissia is overwhelming, any one of them with the possibility of recognizing him and making this whole thing a hundred times more difficult. Noctis tenses whenever someone gets too close, which is every other minute, hands clenched tight at his sides.

He'd left Lia on Ardyn's airship for the time being, though he dearly wishes he had her by him now.

"Just—find the Trident," Noctis mutters to himself, easing past another clamoring throng of people. 

It seems like there's some kind of event going on, all the people moving _away_ from the waterfront, now that Noctis is paying attention to it. Exactly in the opposite direction from where the ring is leading him, which is...interesting.

Noctis reaches his destination just in time to see a woman in a flowing white dress take the Trident from the altar and raise it up to the air.

That must be the Princess of Tenebrae Ardyn had mentioned. She's pretty, in an ethereal sort of way, exactly how Noctis would imagine a princess to look. Nevertheless, she's an enemy, and she's holding onto something that belongs to _him._

Noctis warps behind her, running her through with a sword.

She gasps, turning. "Noctis," she says, looking at him with such confusion that it makes him want to laugh. Did she think he wouldn't kill her just because she's young and pretty? _There are no mercies in a war._

"That's _mine,_ " Noctis tells her. He calls, and the Trident comes, becoming light in his hand as it takes its place in his arsenal.

He looks up as an ear-rending scream splits the air, Leviathan rising from the depths in a tempest of waves like something straight out of a story. Noctis snorts, flicking his fingers against the earring dangling from his ear. He's got his own storybook deity to match.

"Here goes nothing," Noctis shouts, as Ifrit's throne rends the ground beneath him.

-

The battle with Leviathan is the fiercest one yet, Ifrit dancing circles around her as Leviathan's waves douse his flames time and time again. 

Noctis watches them with a careful eye, noting the way she leaves her right side unguarded when she lunges towards Ifrit, trying to catch him in her jaws. That's his opening, and Noctis dashes in, activating his Armiger, all his weapons at the ready as he warp-attacks her in rapid succession.

She shrieks, twisting to aim for him instead, leaving herself wide open to Ifrit to finish the job, his sword cleaving her clear in two.

-

Noctis is almost back at Ardyn's ship when a strange woman hails him, appearing as if out of thin air.

"O King of Kings," she intones—

He does not have time for this. Noctis draws a sword, slashing it at her, only to pass right through as if she isn't actually there. A spirit? "Haven't you heard?" Noctis returns. " _I'm not King of anything._ "

Undisturbed, she continues. "A promise was made to the Oracle, yet I fear it cannot be kept."

Noctis' eyes widen in surprise as she spreads her hands wide, a pale light surrounding her. When it clears, a form Noctis recognizes from paintings hung in the Citadel's training hall is in its place.

"The Glacian?" he wonders.

 _This battle, I have long awaited_. 

Ifrit's voice echoes with melodic tones, the earring growing hot as flames pour forth from the earth. He charges Shiva with a furious anger, the sweeping arc of his sword deadly as it cuts through the air. 

Though Shiva darts swiftly around him, blowing gusts of ice that freeze great expanses of his skin, she's not faster than Ifrit, who finally catches her in his hand, the expression on his face one of savage satisfaction as he crushes the life out of her.


	7. Pyreflame

It feels strange to be walking the streets of Insomnia again, even stranger to be hiding in the shadows, watching familiar faces go by. The ring is taking him straight to the heart of the Citadel, and Noctis braces himself for what he might find there. 

-

He feels his chest go tight at the sight of his father's sword, laid against the Crystal as if in memoriam. He wishes they'd had more time together, that his father's last moments had been anything other than Noctis' blade through his heart.

"I'm sorry," Noctis whispers to his father's memory, and holds his hand out for the sword.

It comes to him, but the Crystal also brightens, white light that shrouds his hand and _pulls_ Noctis into it. 

"What the _fuck?!_ " Noctis exclaims, but no amount of struggling gets it to let him go. 

His earring heats as if in anticipation, and Noctis feels himself getting dragged completely in with a sudden burst of light. The space inside the Crystal is a bizarre prismatic landscape, refracting light in peculiar patterns, claustrophobic and endless in the same breath. 

Noctis looks up slowly, greeted by Bahamut's stern visage. But before he can speak, Ifrit's voice reverberates.

_Now, the end comes._

A resounding groan appears to shake the whole Crystal in the wake of the declaration, as if Ifrit is tearing apart the landscape itself to appear within it.

Bahamut hefts his sword into the air, his voice ringing out in the stillness after.

 _What_ have _you done._

Ifrit's laughter is an echoing howl, fracturing the crystalline walls, and Noctis has to clap his hands over his ears, the unearthly sound vibrating all the way through him.

 _All hail the True King,_ Chosen _of the Crystal. May he sunder the Darkness with Light._

The clash of blades this time is colossal, Ifrit's burning form and Bahamut's shining armor, swords raining down around them like a meteor shower of blades. Noctis ducks for cover and tries not to run into the path of any of the crashing pieces, whether bright metal or fragmenting crystal. 

The earring burns hot suddenly, Ifrit's voice almost soothing as he asks—

 _Lend me your strength, O King, and I shall give mine in turn._

Noctis nods, feeling his knees buckle when his Armiger is called from him by an outside force, the blades surrounding Ifrit as he closes in on Bahamut for a final strike. 

The thunderous clanging _crack_ of the Crystal shattering to pieces in the aftermath of the blow is a sound Noctis will never forget.

-

He comes to on the ground amidst the broken shards of the Crystal, feeling oddly rejuvenated, filled with new power. And who should be standing over him but the Imperial Chancellor, looking for all the world like nothing has ever been more gratifying than this one singular moment.

The smile Ardyn gives him this time is completely without deceit, and he bows low as he commends Noctis. " _Well_ done, Your Majesty."

Noctis lets Ardyn pull him up, still buzzed on the feeling of so much power filling him, like he's taken all the light of the Crystal into himself. "Do I want to know what you're doing here?"

Ardyn's smile turns indulgent, looking at Noctis with unreserved affection. "Regent Drautos sits the throne. I _assume_ you'd like to pay him your regards."

Returning the smile, Noctis agrees. " _Yes._ "

-

The throne room is as he remembers, though his father had never had so many Kingsglaive in attendance.

Noctis pulls off his hood as he steps through the doors, his Armiger surrounding him in a second, shielding him from any who'd think to attack. " _Captain Drautos_ ," he drawls, stopping center before the throne, tilting his head up at Drautos as he inquires, "or should I say General Glauca?" Noctis affects a smile, though there's no warmth in it, and calls his father's sword to his hand. "I've come to claim _what's mine._ "

Drautos eyes him steadily, though Noctis can read the tension in the line of his body as he replies. "The punishment for regicide is death." 

"And the punishment for _treason_?" Noctis returns. 

Drautos stands, descending the steps of the throne with a hand on the hilt of his sword. "What proof do you have of your accusations, Prince Noctis? I served the King faithfully for many years, when all who stand here watched you murder your own father in cold blood." 

Noctis shrugs. "I rather thought we could decide this through a trial by combat." 

He warps at Drautos without warning, Drautos' skill apparent when Noctis strikes steel instead of flesh, the General's heavy broadsword meeting Noctis' own blade, famous armor coalescing over him like a second impenetrable skin.

Noctis cycles through weapons as Drautos pushes him back, Drautos faster and stronger than he should be without the King's magic to bolster him.

But this is a battle Noctis _needs_ to win, and he screams out all the frustration and anger of the past few weeks as they lock blades, every hurt and anguish that he's suffered because of Drautos' betrayal coming to the fore. His sword ignites with flame, the fire hotter than any spell Noctis has ever been able to cast before, and he feels his earring burn in congruence as Ifrit adds his own flames to the conflagration. It's hot enough to melt through Drautos' armor, his skin flaking away as the flesh beneath blackens and turns to ash, Drautos' dying convulsions making Noctis laugh with an eerie sense of satisfied vindication.

He turns to the rest of the Glaives, sword still burning, eyes red as blood, and asks. " _Anyone else care to challenge my claim?_ "

One by one, the Glaives bend a knee, the Council members falling over themselves to swear their allegiance to him, and Noctis ascends the throne to a unanimous consensus of what's rightfully his.

He's finally home, after a journey of so many months, and everything is exactly as it should be.


	8. Epilogue

Noctis stretches out on the _king_ sized bed, luxuriating in the extravagance of having no daemons to kill, no swords to hunt down. The Ring of the Lucii dissolved with the Crystal's shattering, nothing else weighing on him but one last question.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he says, peering at Ardyn thoughtfully where he's leaned against a window, gazing down at the city. "That made me kill my father. Drautos would never have come up with something so _subtle_."

Ardyn smiles, a slight bittersweet expression, unconcerned. "And if it was?"

Noctis gets up with a heavy sigh, slamming into Ardyn with with his sword out, shoving it through his ribs and up, hitting as many vital organs on the way as possible.

He's not surprised when Ardyn's face changes, pupils yellowing like a daemon's, black oily smears trailing from his eyes and mouth. It's possible that Noctis has known for a long time, something that didn't quite add up about the way Ardyn always knew where to find him, the stories he spun _too_ believable, too convenient. 

Noctis lets the sword fade away, wrapping his legs around Ardyn's waist and kissing him up against the window.

" _Then we're even._ "


End file.
